


little pitchers

by TolkienGirl



Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [271]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Frog POV, Frog creeping around and overhearing lots of different threads of conversation, Gen, Mithrim, kind of, set after Finrod and Beren go out scouting, slice of life?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: This is a valley of a world. It is safe, breathing and walking and living here.
Relationships: Amlach & Arien, Amlach & Maedhros | Maitimo, Amlach & Original Character(s)
Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [271]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1300685
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	little pitchers

_No good’ll come of it…mind the sharp one…not enough to get us by, you think a few firecrackers will do the trick if they send soldiers…._

He can’t climb the rafters here. He can tuck himself into corners, slip through canted doors. He can wriggle on his belly under the long table, where the rushes grow sodden with mud by the day’s end. A dozen avenues, then, but Frog does not much like any of them.

_They weren’t overly friendly, but no one caused trouble. Thought me associated with Mairon, if you remember. At least, I believe. Beren and I didn’t dispel the illusion. No, we learned very little, for all that. The settlers who aren’t in paid thrall are wary, tired of war._

_They call it war?_

_They might as well. Phillips confirmed with me, how often Feanor went out burning, fighting. You really should speak to him, uncle. Phillips is that solid fellow I told you of. He’s given me a more complete history of this place than…_

He is holding his breath. A familiar feeling. He lets it out. This is a valley of a world. It is safe, breathing and walking and living here.

_Galadriel, have you seen Celegorm?_

_Not if I can help it._

_Oh, hang it all. You’re no help._

“Frog? Little one, you should come to bed—”

(He creeps away, and Estrela doesn’t chase him.)

(He tries to think of her by her new name. She told him once that _he_ had an old name and a new name, somehow for time to teach him.)

_Where are you going?_

_To the mine._

(Run.)

_Carrots are rotting on one side…clear everything out of that corner of the garden…tell Caranthir? Maybe…he’s so damned particular about the garden, think he was the only one to tend a growing thing…oh, they’re all that way._

Frog doesn’t go hungry, here. He has a shirt as well as trousers. Beren has found his moccasins, and showed him how to tie them to his feet. Frog will take some time to lose them again.

_You should rest._

_You should sleep._

_Good night to you, too._

Under the cool arc of darkness, Frog wraps his hands around his covered toes. He wishes they would let him keep Russandol company, like he used to in the long nights when Russandol twitched in waking and cried in his sleep.

So quietly, he cried. Only Frog saw.

Russandol is so lost, now. So lost inside himself, not like the forest, when he crawled and played _canos_ , when he told them to leave him behind.

Russandol and Estrela are just alike that way. They live in a deep pit, and Frog has been in the pit himself, and he…knows. How high the walls. How empty the sky.

No rafters.

No rafters to climb, in this place.

“There he is,” says Sticks. “Frog, come on in. It’s cold.”

He follows, but only because it’s quiet. He’s tired of listening.


End file.
